Little Red Riding Hood
by LadyBow8
Summary: Kurama's grandmother is deathly ill, so he must journey through the forest to see her. Unfortunately for him, there is a creature living there that is intent upon getting what it wants from him, by any means necessary. (Kurama/Hiei)


**Little Red Riding Hood**

 _Kurahi Edition_

 _ **Once upon a time, there lived a kind woman in a small village, named Shiori Minamino.**_

Shiori lived a simple life and was want of nothing, but one day a priest from the neighboring village wrote to her with terribly distressing news: her mother was sick. And I don't mean propped up in bed knitting sick; I mean knocking on death's door, hacking up blood, chanting the name of her deceased husband sick. They were clearly all preparing for her to pass on to the next world. The problem is Shiori was rather busy at the office and if she missed another day of work she might be fired, so she decided to send her sweet, obedient, rosy-cheeked son Shuichi to do her bidding.

"You'll be bringing her wine and cake, Shuichi."  
"But why, mother? She's dying. Shouldn't I bring something more appropriate, like rosary, or– or a sweater to wear in the afterlife, or perhaps a will of whose fine print she won't be able to read in all her delirium?"

"Shoosh, shoosh, son. You're being silly," she told him. "And we both know your grandmother was very deprived in this life. If there's anything she'd want that would make her more comfortable, it would be some final indulgences, now pip pip and get dressed so you can run these to her while they're fresh." Just as Shuichi threw up his hands and resigned to his dresser, he heard the timer on the oven ring, alerting him that his mother only had a few more preparations to make before he would need to be on his way.

So he changed accordingly. It was rather cold that day: a fresh, misty Autumn morning, to be precise. He threw on some long-johns under his clothes, yanked his thickest hiking socks around his calves, buttoned his shirt and coat, and fluffed up his hair. He had a mane of delectable locks of fire which easily shielded his ears from the elements. It even warmed up his shoulders, much like a cloak.

Once he came back downstairs, Shiori was waiting for him with the cake and wine tucked neatly inside a basket. When she handed it to Shuichi, however, she didn't let go. He looked up to his mother with his big, green eyes and smiled sweetly. She attempted something similar but had a harsh warning at her tongue. You see, she knew that her meek, effeminate, and ever-so-charming son was always up to something: weird stuff that they would have to talk about at some point, because it just wasn't adding up. So before she sent him off on his errand, she _urged_ him most desperately to _stay on the path._

"You always do this, Shuichi."  
"Do what?" He asked her, cocking his delicate brow.  
"Get lost in the forest!" He managed a quick "tsk" and roll of the eyes before she threw her hands on her hips and frowned. "You are _never_ home on time, always have an excuse – and _honey,_ this is hardly a time to worry me so. I want this to be a simple trip, there and back. Can you do that for me, son?" Shuichi looked on her with pained compliance and laid his other hand upon hers, which he could feel was chapped and flaked from the cold.  
"Of course, I can."  
"Good boy. Now, off you go," she said, leaning in to kiss his cheek as she released the basket to him.

As Shuichi ventured further and further out of the village, he breathed the cool air of the morning with a sense of peace. In truth, the woman was starting to get on his nerves, even though he loved her deeply and knew she had his best interests at heart... as well as she was aware of his interests.

Not long after he crossed the gates at the outskirts of the forest, he noticed a dark, scruffy creature of debatable intentions, slinking through the brush in what it believed to be areas past his detection. In fact, he had been letting it follow him for some time, just to be sure that was what it was doing, before he stopped. He clutched the basket close and glanced around, not so much in hopes of spotting the creature, but to make it clear he knew he wasn't alone. "I know you're following me. And I'll tell you simply that if you attempt to steal this basket from me, I shall be ruthless in handing your ass to you."

"Kurama, it's me," the creature finally spoke up.

"Of course, it is," Shuichi answered, and he watched as what appeared to be the furry back of an animal rose on two feet. It was nothing but his good friend Hiei, a demon who lived in the forest and with whom he had significant sexual tensions. Hiei was small, at least a head shorter than him, but many decades old, and built like he had been lifting weights since he was in the womb. He could almost pass for a human, but his hair was as thick as a wolf's coat of fur, his nails were sharp like talons, and any time he was in the presence of humans he tended to make them dizzy, or constipated. He had no problem hacking anyone to bits, either, and every time he smiled there was a feral gleam in his eye. Shuichi had to pretend it had no effect on him, but they both knew better.  
"What's in the basket that's so important, Kurama?" Shuichi darted his eyes around.  
"Look, we're still not far from the village. Could you please refrain from calling me that name?" You see, Shuichi was not all that he appeared. He, too, was a supernatural creature of sorts: a fox, a _kitsune_. Hiei called him Kurama because he was, in a way, a spiritual changeling to Shiori, and "Shuichi" was only the name he used in humanity's presence. Hiei always found this ruse amusing.

"Pah! Sorry about that. What was your name again?" Kurama clamped his lips shut and began to grimace as Hiei's mischievous little fingers came poking for the basket. He had to swing it out of his reach before he could explain.  
"This isn't going to make much sense to you, but my grandmother is very ill and this could very well be her last day on Earth. My mother seems to think that she'll enjoy it better if she's full of sugar and booze. Now, if you'll excuse me–," he tried, only to turn a ways before he was hooked by those jagged fingers and squeezed close, so that Hiei could take a shameless whiff of him.  
"You smell like soap and spices. And firewood." Hiei took one more deep inhale with his nose smooshed just above where his belly-button would have been. "And fabric softener."

"You remember what fabric softener is?!"  
"The scent comes with a very dear memory these days..." Hiei answered, eyelids getting heavy. Kurama knew exactly where this was going and tried to tug free.  
"I don't have time for this! I promised I'd be a good boy today and stay out of trouble!" Although Hiei had almost fallen on his face into the dirt at Kurama's feet, he shuffled down on all fours and arched his back, grating the words with haste:

"Doesn't that make trouble all the more enticing?" He closed his eyes as a rumble emerged from the pit of his stomach, and a howl as piercing as a siren rolled off his throat. "AAOOOGHHHHHHHHhhhhhhh!" But Kurama was not there anymore to receive this invitation.

He had already treaded quite far from Hiei to get back on track. To his chagrin, Hiei was flashing from tree branch to tree branch beside him. "Kurama..." His disembodied voice echoed all around him. "Don't you think your grandmother should have some flowers?"  
"Flowers?!"  
"Yes, to sit on the window sill by her death bed."

"Well, I suppose!"

"Then you'd better pick some." Kurama's steps slowed. He knew there was a clearing not far from there where he could find flowers, and it did seem like a strangely wise idea, no matter its source.

When they reached the clearing, Hiei gave a toothy smile from behind his foxy friend. Just as he had hoped, Kurama was bending down into the tall grasses, forming an eclectic bouquet of wild flowers in his free hand. It was a lovely view, like an unintentionally erotic painting that he had the power to step into at a moment's notice, to do something dirty.

As Kurama was kneeling over a fallen tree trunk to pluck at daisies and this-or-that, he felt a tug on his belt that bragged it could rip his trousers down to his ankles. Try as he may, he couldn't quite straighten up to throw Hiei off of him, who was now blanketing himself over his rump and rocking his hips with glee.

"I swear to God, Hiei! When I said I'd hand your ass to you, I was only half kidding! I will do what I have to do to get to grandmother's house... _unfucked_ _!_ Do you _hear_ me?!" Slowly but surely, Hiei rescinded from his back-side, and the dense pressure that Kurama had felt against his perineum slipped away. When he turned around to face him, Hiei was still smiling, as if this most blunt rejection was all a part of the foreplay. To make it worse, he continued to smile as a breeze made his tattered clothing dance upon his skin. Goosebumps covered the curves of his chest as they met the sunlight, and when the wind flushed the low-lying fabric of his pants between his legs, Kurama was sure that whatever was in there was solid and swinging, like a pendulum in a grandfather clock.

He was now on an absolute sprint to this woman's house! It was no longer about what was right and wrong: he just wanted to prove that he was no victim of temptation! Although he had heard one last howl in the distance, he never saw Hiei again, all the way to his grandmother's doorstep. By then, he was out of breath and trying to cover up his erection before he entered the house.

He made sure to knock first, so she wouldn't be startled. It wasn't a surprise to him that no one answered, so he opened the door and stood in the entryway. Immediately, he was blasted by the heat of the fireplace, and ever so tempted to leave his coat on the coat-rack, but it was the only thing keeping his little friend out of view. "Grandmother? It's Shuichi!" He called. Not so far from the entryway was a door leading into her bedroom, where a heap of frills laid under a thick, colorful quilt. "Grandmother?" _Perhaps she was already dead,_ he thought, swiping the sweat from his brow.

"Hello... _Shuichi,"_ a suspect voice greeted him from under the covers.  
"Grandmother... have you lost your voice? It sounds so course and deep." He set down the basket and flowers and ran to the other side of her bed so he could take her hand in his, but he was startled by how long and pointed her nails had become! She was so pale, too – and so hot! Just as hot and pale as the hands that had been grabbing him earlier!

Kurama gasped.  
Then he tore off the covers and gasped again. A pair of blood red eyes peered back at him above a sick mask. "Come into bed, my dear!" He still wasn't sure if it was who he thought it was, so he plucked away the dainty, half-moon glasses sitting atop his "grandmother"'s tiny button nose, and this time he gasped ten times as deeply!

"Hiei?!" By now, this imposter gave up trying to sound like an old woman.  
"I SAID _COME INTO BED_ ," he growled, just as Kurama straddled him and tore off the mask. It was indeed Hiei, wearing one of her frilly night-gowns! Why this would turn him on, Kurama hadn't a clue, so he cleared his throat and got back to the more obvious issue at hand.  
"Where's my grandmother?! You didn't," he hesitated, "... _eat_ her, did you?!" The face Hiei made said it all.

"Eat her?! No fucking way. Her flesh must be like an old shoe."

After some arguing, it occurred to both of them that Hiei had sneaked into an empty cottage, and Kurama's grandmother had simply disappeared. "I guess she went to Hell all by herself?" Hiei wondered, sharing his toothiest most seductive grin. Meanwhile, Kurama, who was still sitting in his lap, swiped the sweat off his brow again and sighed.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye!"  
"Oh, come on, like you had _any_ sort of attachment to her." After another deep sigh, Kurama admitted:  
"No... I guess I didn't." Finally, they both just stared at each other. Then Kurama fumbled with the buttons on his coat and shirked himself free. " _God,_ it's so hot in here." The coat wasn't enough; he had to fling his shirt over his head and began unbuttoning his long-johns.  
"Well then, my dear fox... Does this mean I've _earned_ myself a treat?!" His demon friend asked in a sharp whisper, his haste growing yet again. Kurama blinked before he seemed utterly annoyed.  
"Ggrhghghg, fine! I will cut you a piece of cake!" As he leaned towards the bedside table to reach into the basket, Hiei threw his arms around his waist so he would collapse atop his chest.  
"Not the cake, you fool! I want a piece of that ASS!" Before it could be helped, they were furiously making out in his grandma's bed, and Hiei's hands squeezed up and down his thighs in large, eager circles. One by one, Hiei helped Kurama peel the sweat-soaked garments from his skin, until he was rolling the other sock off his big toe and beholding his erection. It was straight up and already gushing with pre-cum. "Dear. Fucking. Lord, Kurama!" Hiei wailed as if he had done something unimaginably inept.

"This is _all your fault_ ," he panted back, lying with legs spread against the heaped up quilt. Hiei practically dived down to grind against him, but Kurama wriggled away from his kisses. "Wait, Hiei! We mustn't do this!"  
"Why not?!"  
"Many reasons!"  
"Name 'em!" After some sputtering, Kurama told him soberly:  
"You're still wearing her night gown!" Hiei paused to consider it.  
"Ah, but you have _instant_ access under this gown," he proclaimed, yanking up the skirt and blessing Kurama with his naked flesh! "All the better to hop on my dick!" Kurama's face lifted into an ecstatic smile, much like a child at the front of the line at their favorite rollercoaster. But wait!:  
"What if she comes stumbling back and catches us?!  
"All the better reason _to get on with it_ while we have the chance!" was Hiei's answer as he swiftly pounced and hovered over him. All the while, the tip of his penis dragged up Kurama's leg, across his shaft, and past his belly-button. A pulsing supernatural heat ran through, which stirred the nerves under Kurama's skin. Once it reached his chest, Kurama seized it carefully in his hand. He peered up at this shameless creature, who was guided only by pleasure and growled in anticipation with the muscles of his groin twitching just inches from Kurama's parted lips!

Very shortly, the mattress was squeaking something furious, and Hiei was gripping at the foot-board with his hips pumping into Kurama's mouth and his eyes rolled back into his head. Then the nightgown rolled back down over Kurama's head, making them look like a convulsing tent of floral patterned cotton, from under which murmurs could be heard – of pleasure or confusion, one cannot be sure. As Kurama cupped this demon's butt cheeks in his hands, he felt them trembling dangerously close to climax before he flipped him on his back.  
Hiei knew it was his turn to pleasure his partner, but he didn't just want to pleasure him: he wanted to torture him. He wanted to be seen as a master of impromptu sex and was well aware that a whole kit of tools and delights might well be sitting by their side.

So he pushed Kurama back down on the bed and covered his hungry eyes with the night cap he had been wearing on his head all that time. Once he was sure he couldn't peek, he turned for the basket and flipped open the lid. Inside, he found the bottle of wine, a cardboard box, and silver cutlery. As he pulled out the fork, Kurama's panting became more intense. "What's taking you?!" He asked, just as he heard the sound of the box opening. "You're not opening my mother's cake, are you?!" Hiei bit his lip with his eyes wild before he answered:  
"All the better to prepare you with, my _dear!_ " Then the cool teeth of the fork smeered the frosting down his chest. It passed his navel and slathered through his pubic hair in painfully slow motion. Then a pause came again, wherein Kurama expected for the trail of the frosting to be completed. Instead, Hiei jammed an entire chunk of cake around his dick and cackled maniacally when he gasped.

No words needed to be said how good he thought he was at this: he went straight to jacking him and dragging his face down the frosting trail, suckling away every last trace of it. Kurama was helpless to pleasure! He writhed against the sheets and clenched his cheeks as an ever-flowing river of moans passed his lips at varied volumes. Once Hiei had come to end of the trail, he reached blindly with his free hand into the cake box and brought two fingers encased with strawberry filling to Kurama's asshole. He did this many times, drawing slippery circles with the jelly until he was content. Then he took the plunge and probed him mercilessly, even turned him on his belly and poured the wine down his back. The soft pink rosé streaming over his flushed skin not only resembled glimmering lightning streaks under the lamp light, but it reminded Hiei of his warm, pumping veins. He simply _needed_ to put his cock into him after that!

Kurama had no qualms with it. In fact, the instant Hiei slip-slided on top of him and thrust his member into prostate-town, he was a sprawling, jiggling mess, competing for noise with the squeaky mattress.  
At one point, Hiei got annoyed with the sound and dragged Kurama onto the floor, where they tossed, rolled, and tussled across the rug. For a moment, there, it seemed more like they were competing for power, or perhaps that Kurama neared his dick to Hiei's asshole, without the kind of reaction for which he had hoped. A kind of wrestle ensued, until Hiei bent down to sling Kurama's leg over his shoulder and slam him against the wall. Kurama loved being man-handled! But then he worried:  
"What if someone can hear us in here? We shouldn't get too close to the walls!"  
"Nonsense!" Hiei grated, almost making Kurama lose his balance as he poked around for a point of entrance. "Did you not hear a knock instead of a quake?! These are thick, sturdy walls, fox! That will trap in all the sounds, sights, and smells! ... _All the better to fuck you with!"_

And so he did, asserting his dominance most immaculately! But Kurama was sick of wobbling on one knee! (You see, he was never standing because, to do so, Hiei's dick – though quite satisfactory in length and girth – would have only reached a few inches above his knees, at best.) He had other plans, and so he scooped the demon up from under the thighs and made him stand against the corner of the bed, and from there he railed down on Hiei like he was a part of the bed post! This fox was ravished for an orgasm!

When he finally achieved it, he was more or less bouncing over his companion, who emanated the heat of hellfire, with every vein swelled in his neck and a howl ready to erupt.

POP!

They lay in bed, taking turns swigging the rest of the wine, when all of a sudden the door at the front of the cottage could be heard, ostensibly opening. Hiei could pop out of a room in half a second flat, and did so immediately, but Kurama was left to clutch the sheets as a couple he thought he had never seen in his life approached the doorway to the bedroom. The woman gasped in fright, but the man seemed to recognize him. "Shuichi? ...Minamino?"  
"Y-y-y... yes?"  
"Shuichi, what are you doing here?" Kurama couldn't fathom how to answer this one, so he just stared at them without moving an inch. "Shuichi, are you–, are you naked?"  
"I..."  
"We were just at your grandmother's, paying our last respects. Weren't you here to see her? You know she's across the street, dying, right?"  
"I think he _is_ naked!" The woman said, voice beginning with crack with panic and disgust.  
"It's. It's not what it looks like," Kurama began. "You see, I passed through the forest to get here and may have encountered poison oak. So you see, I ran to the first available house and took a shower, to soothe the rash and all. T-that's why I look so, so flushed and exhausted. It was very taxing, and I wanted to rip my own skin off. So I was just _recovering_ from the ordeal and _not_ in my right mind." His visitors, the truth inhabitants of the house, just stared before they noticed the empty cake box next to him, and the near-empty wine bottle. All the woman could do was point a shaky finger in their general direction. Kurama slowly but surely looked to these damning artifacts with his mouth falling open.  
"Aa—aahh-OH! Yes!" They continued to stare. "You see, the _burning_ from the oak was so intense, I- I thought maybe the cake my mother sent me with would, would help alleviate some of the pain." By now, the man was pinching the bridge of his nose. He cleared his throat as loudly as he could to interrupt his stammering intruder.  
"Shuichi. Son, your mother has only good to share about you, and I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding. But you need to gather your clothes and leave, _right now_."

Not five minutes later, Kurama was standing outside with his long-johns bundled under his arm. He knew it was pointless to look for Hiei, who was _always_ around for the fucking but never for anything else, so he passed his grandmother's house with the empty basket and decided he had better be on his way home. _"Oh yes, she was still quite sentient,"_ he muttered as he entered the forest once again. _"But she didn't want the cake, and I felt it ought to go to someone, so I took it to the neighbors, who were in an awful state of grieving. Yes. Yes, them. It was delicious, by the way. I mean_ _ **they**_ _thought it was delicious..."_

Meanwhile, Hiei, who was poised upon a tree branch, listened in and grinned from ear to ear.

The end.


End file.
